


whole

by TreacleTeacups



Series: Drabbles n Oneshots [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Drabble, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Oneshot, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unrequited Soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:33:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25643599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreacleTeacups/pseuds/TreacleTeacups
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: Drabbles n Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859008
Comments: 6
Kudos: 258





	whole

**The air is cold.** It frosts from Harry’s lips in a cloud, exhaling slowly into the night. Magic thrums, a field awash in the light of a whole moon. There is no one here but himself.

It’s been twelve years. Twelve years since the Battle of Hogwarts, twelve years since his soulmate died at his feet.

 _Avada Kedavra._ The scrawled words burn his wrist.

Harry crouches, sinks his hands into the cold dirt. There’s nothing here for him. There was never anything here for him.

Harry pulls the dirt up, lets it filter through his fingers.

A time turner broke here, a long time ago. There are sand time-crystals buried between grass roots and pebbles.

Harry does not need a time turner. The Deathly Hallows let him see Before and After. Let him live concurrently in a time thousands of years from now and millennia in the distant past. There is no version of himself in which he has a requited soulmate. There is no version of himself in which he is whole.

Harry is not alone; he has his friends. Has his family. Yet they age, and Harry does not.

_Avada Kedavra._

The words burn for the first time in twelve years. The sands of time filter through his fingers. Fog hushes through his lips. A soulmate who is dead, who is gone, who is lost – is calling out. Harry has a wife. Harry has a career. Harry has a _life._

_Avada Kedavra._

Harry focuses on the words, feels the grains of time float in the wind, feels the black hole of his Master of Death magic bend light, bend _life,_ and crush it to dust. Feels a whisper in the distance of life and time and death, a hushed cry in the night.

Harry has a wife, a career, a life. There is no version of himself in which he is whole. And yet, and _yet_ –

He answers the call.


End file.
